Empty Night
by ginnyinvisible
Summary: Edward's point of view of New Moon. "Nothing had changed, but my eyes were blinded by the light. I couldn't see the stars anymore. And there was no more reason for anything."
1. Preface

**PREFACE**

"Before you, Bella, my life was like a moonless night. Very dark, but there were stars--points of light and reason ... And then you shot across my sky like a meteor. Suddenly everything was on fire; there was brilliancy, there was beauty. When you were gone, when the meteor had fallen over the horizon, everything went black. Nothing had changed, but my eyes were blinded by the light. I couldn't see the stars anymore. And there was no more reason for anything."

**MADNESS**

My life is just flashes of color, sounds, dreams

A roadside artist painting,  
washing the canvas in warm liquid brown  
She said she loved the color brown

The tinkling sound of the lullaby I wrote  
coming from the piano that I hardly sense as I play  
Listening to it made tears appear in her eyes

Walking by the side of the road, and suddenly the scenery changes  
it is our meadow, I stumble and fall  
how she was enchanted when she saw my skin glitter

The scent of freesia, constantly floating in the air  
I open my mouth and lick the taste  
The actual flower in the garden smells dull and artificial

Curled up in a ball, but don't notice where I am  
I simply see her window beyond the darkness  
where she turns and smiles at me, my angel, my heaven

Turn on the radio, and no matter the song  
I always hear Claire de Lune, by Debussy  
the favorite we had in common

Every passerby, every acquantaince I see  
their faces blur before my sight  
and her warm chocolate eyes look out at me

Her voice, more and more often  
whispering to me, calling my name  
saying, "I love you."

When it happens I cry out, begging for her to stay  
I fall to my knees yet cannot pass out  
People stare, they think I'm mad

Yes, I'm mad, I scream  
I see my face in their minds  
sunken, deep black pits that are eyes

And this is my life, my eternity  
Yet I will go through with it, suffer for her  
Look down on me from heaven and know I do it for you

Do you remember me, as I remember you?


	2. Chapter One

**EDWARD**

I held her face in my hands, her beautiful face, knowing I would never see it again, never touch it.

Her eyes looked back at me, filled with disbelieving, numb agony. This couldn't be the right thing, I tried to convince myself. I couldn't leave here here.

I knew it was a lie. I had to do this.

Slowly, I let go of her, whispering, "Be safe." Turning, I ran into the forest mechanically, leaving my life behind. My ears pounded as i ran, and I saw or heard nothing, only the sound of her stumbling after me, calling my name, which grey muffled and faded away as I ran, ever so much faster than her.

"Edward!" she screamed, from what sounded like a mile away, and the sound faded like a whisper on the wind. That was the last I heard from her lips.

I have to do this, I repeated to myself. I have to. I've messed up her life too much already. I can't let this go on, just because I'm selfish enough to love her. I have to leave her to be what she could be.

I can't. She is my life.

No! I forced myself to watch the images I had brooded over the past few days... her body, at an awkward angle, lying, covered in blood, in the ballet studio... I thought I had lost her then, and it was _my_ fault...

Later, attacked by Jasper, lying in the shards of the glass table that _I_ had pushed her into... and so forgiving, making sure Jasper didn't feel bad for almost killing her...

And so many times, eagerly begging me to turn her into a vampire, wanting to lose her soul for me, wanting to join me in eternal hell. Wanting to become a vampire. At the prom... "Oh, I'm with the vampires, of course." So ready to give up her humanity, her life, her soul...

This was what I was giving her by staying with her; this was the life I was forcing her to live. Forever.

Eventually, I ran far enough into the forest that there was no way possible for her to follow, and collapsed onto the ground.

I saw her face in my mind as I told her the most blasphemous lie I had ever uttered: that I didn't want her. I saw the pain split her face, crush her. And knew that it was insignificant compared to mine, this horrible monstrous pain inside of me, threatening to crush me.

It pulled, tore at me, grinding at my mind and chest. No, I couldn't do this, I wasn't strong enough. I closed me eyes and clenched my fists, fighting against the desire to return to her house, to explain, to apologize... to see her face light up to see me...

Yet I would always be a vampire, and it was wrong. It was the wrong decision. If I existed during living hell through all eternity, I deserved it, for I deserved worse torture than this for entering her life in the first place.

I was a vampire. And so I would always be. We could never be together.

I forced myself to stand up. I needed to return to her house and make good on my promise, I needed to remove the remnants of my existense from her life.

I stood up, and met the absurdly cheerful light that sparkled on my face. It hurt my eyes, and I closed them.

I don't know how long it took me to get back to her house. Her scent wasn't fresh, which meant she hadn't returned yet. No, no, she was fine, I couldn't think that way, she was okay. She was on her way home.

I banished images from my mind, images of her wandering the woods, calling, finally tripping on something, falling, and staying down. To make my imagination worse, it started to drizzle, and my imagination Bella's hair began to get drenched, but she didn't move.

She was fine. I knew how long it took her to walk home. I'd leave a note for Charlie, so he'd know where to find her if she was out to late.

As I scrawled it, I took care to use her handwriting. I probably imitated her handwriting better than she would herself. My hand refused to write her name at the end, so I signed it "B". Then I went upstairs to her room, feet not making the slightest sound.

Walking into the bedroom, smelling her freesia scent, noticing her innocent and appealing taste evident in everything, it threatened to crush me. I tried to deaden my hyperactive senses, holding my breath, as I quickly stole back the gifts, photos, anything that would remind her of me.

I couldn't steal back her memories, I couldn't take back the day she saw me.

As I picked up the CD of my music, I remembered her enchanted eyes as she first heard it, loving it- loving me.

I had never deserved the short time I had had with her- I was thankful for that, at least. At least I had known the angel, at least I knew such perfection existed. And she was proof there was a heaven, for where else would she go?

I couldn't take back this things. I had to leave something. I hid them under the floorboards, laying the CD on top, looking one last time around her room. I was too weak. I couldn't completely leave. She wouldn't forget anyway...

But she had to. She would. She was a human, anyway. She could forget, and move on. She could marry, have a life without me, a life endlessly better than it would be with me.

Somehow, I stumbled back out of the house, found my car, and began to drive. At first I drove slowly, at about 90 mph, but then slowly began to accelerate. Eventually, I had gotten to nearly 180 mph, and could not see at all. My hands were shaking like a junkie without a fix in weeks, and my teeth were clenched so hard my gums would be bleeding if it were possible.

When I next looked up I was at the airport.

Another memory swam up, sitting on the plane, not knowing whether I'd be fast enough... And when I got close enough, hearing Jasper's thoughts..._ She's gone, she disappeared, Alice sees her, dying..._

I boarded the plane, leaving Forks, leaving my old life... leaving her. Forever.

**Next chapter is from Alice's POV. It's about the family greeting Edward as he arrives on the flight from Denali, and they see how losing Bella is killing him. Review for the update.**

**Stephenie Meyer owns everything.**


	3. Chapter Two

**ALICE**

We waited, silently, at the airport. Carlisle, Esme, Jasper, and I. Em and Rose had gone ahead to Tanya's place, to bring our things, and prepare the place, but we waited to meet him. Help him. We owed it to him, owed it to my brother, the sentimental, dramatic, angsty brother we loved.

His plane came in, and we watched as the passengers filed out, slowly. I tried not to see what he would look like, tried to block the vision.

I didn't want to see him like I had yesterday, _dead, torn, pain spasming across his face_. But I kept my normal eyes open, and watched the door where the passengers were disenbarking.

Esme tightened her hand on my shoulder, I looked up and saw here silent sobs twist her face. She cared for him like a real son, he had always been a son to her. It hurt her, too, probably more than any of us, to see his heart broken. I felt Jasper send calming waves over the family, and I squeezed his hand in mine, to convey thanks, but did not move my eyes from the plane.

He did not get off.

The last of the passengers collected her luggage and left the airport. The flight attendant came off and whispered something to the suited woman in charge, and I strained my oversensitive ears to be able to hear.

"He won't respond, won't move... I don't know if he's alive, doesn't seem to be breathing." The woman looked concerned and began to dial on her phone.

I looked around at my family, and I saw that they had heard the same I had. "Alice," Carlisle murmured urgently, "What do you see?"

I sighed and closed my eyes.

_He sat in the car Tanya had lent us, sitting in the back seat as Carlisle drove. We seemed to be going up the road back to the large house we were now living in with our Denali cousins. I couldn't see his eyes; his face was in his hands, hair limp and mussed. I could see the tendons in his arms sticking out, bared._

My voice confirmed, "He's fine," tonelessly, and my eyes opened. "He's fine, but... he's... Well, he's hurting."

We all heard Esme's intake of breath, and Carlisle put his arm around her, bringing her face to look at his. "We knew this would happen, love. It'll be okay. It has to. He's doing what he thinks is the right thing."

He pulled her tighter against his body, and Jazz, as well, held my hand tighter, probably realizing I didn't want to be held. I turned to look at him, and his eyes were pained, regretful, guilty. He wasn't as close to Edward as I was, but he understood, and I knew what he was thinking.

_"Jazz,"_ I remembered calling out to him. _He had run into the woods, and stood still when I called, facing away from me, body rigid. "Jazz!" I caught up to him, and looked up into his eyes. He was always so much taller than me._

_His eyes were filled with horror. "I'm a monster," he whispered. "I... I... I don't deserve to..."_

_"No, Jasper, stop it!" I had to stop this. "Bella sent me after you. She told me to tell you she didn't blame you. She didn't want you to feel bad."_

_He laughed darkly. "And Edward?"_

_"He wouldn't have either." I laughed as well, a little scornfully. "Knowing him, he's blaming himself for all of this." _How right I was.

_"Would he tell me to forget about it, would he forgive me, if I had killed Bella?" He pulled me against him, holding me so tightly it would have crushed my bones if I were human. "How would I tell him? 'Edward, I just killed your girlfriend. Sorry. It won't happen again.'"_

_"Jasper, this isn't your fault. You can't help it." I reached up and kissed him, passionately, tracing my tongue over his silky, warm lips._

_He pulled away after a couple seconds, face rigid._

_"Alice, nothing you can say or do can make me stop hating myself right now."_

I sighed. "It's not your fault. You losing control was just the last straw. Edward was insanely guilty already, after James." I regretted bringing the Phoenix incident up, he blamed himself for that too, for letting Bella slip away from him.

"It was bound to happen eventually, even before that," I continued. I saw it flickering, every now and then." I pulled his hand closer to his chest.

"Let's go," I said, louder.

Without pulling out of our individual embraces, we walked, insanely slow for vampires, to the plane.

As we reached the steps to enter the aircraft, Carlisle murmured something to the flight attendant, explaining. Her face relaxed, and she nodded, relieved. He, holding Esme close, led the way into the plane.

Edward was at the back, in a single seat. He hadn't brought any luggage, nothing, not even his wallet. His clothes were rumpled- he obviously hadn't changed them.

When he smelled, or heard, us coming, he lifted his face from his hands. Eyes coal black, dark circles under them, they seemed pools of pain and loss. He was broekn. And yet, you couldn't berate him, because he was doing all this to fix her life.

Damn his stupid conscience! It was all so wonderful, Edward and Bella... I had seen her becoming a vampire, entering the family, so happy with Edward.

_His crooked smile as he lay with her, blissfully, in a small cottage. She was curled up beside him, and his arm was around her. Sometimes she or he held something, a blurry patch, that my vision couldn't quite make out. But always, every time, his face was exhilerated, delighted, living a life of love and joy._

She was sweet, too. I loved being with her, so human and sensitive. I shrank from the thought of what this was doing to her. No, I had promised him I wouldn't look. I wouldn't look.

But I saw his anguish-twisted face and knew she would be the same.

He met Carlisle's eyes as we came up, looking into them, probably seeing into his mind. "Carlisle," he greeted. His voice was horrible, cracked.

Looking around, he seemed surprised that the plane was empty. Beyond that, he seemed sightless, watching nothing vacantly, as he stood up. "Let's go," he mumbled.

No one said anything, and we left the plane, entered the car, and drove to Tanya's place, equally silently. We didn't know what to say.

Carmen met us at the door, and her already black, Spanish eyes darkened as she saw Edward. "His room is upstairs," she whispered. "Does he have luggage?"

His eyes tightened. "No, he said sharply. "I left everything behind."

I didn't need his mind-reading power to know his statement included his life.

--

* * *

**Stephenie Meyer owns everything.**

**I'll update when I get a decent amount of reviews. I just want to know that people actually want to keep reading.**

** Also, looking forward for when I get to Volterra- I don't own a copy of New Moon. Until then, I can survive without the book since there is no defined dialogue/actions for Edward, but at that point, I will need dialogue and stuff. It would be amazing if someone could email me if you could help me out with that. Thanks (: btw my email is ginny underscore pwns at hotmail dot com. Feel free to email me with anything else as well.**


	4. Chapter Three

**Sorry that this chapter is short. Next chapter is already written, I'll put it up soon.**

**EDWARD**

Life was empty.

I sat on the couch someone- probably Alice, had thoughtfully placed in the room, along with a lush carpet and a piano, gazing at the bright, white walls surrounding me.

This was it. I left. I succeeded. I had been strong enough.

I tried to think triumphantly, proud that I had managed to do the right thing, but the thought sounded hollow.

She was gone, gone from my life, and I would never see her again. Never see her smile, overjoyed to see me as she opened the door, never see her blush furiously when she was embarassed, never hear her heart speed up when I touched her, when I kissed her...

The memory of her lips, so soft and warm, against mine was so painful that it broke through my shell, and I screamed. It was a sound full of horror, despair.

I heard the abrupt lull in conversation downstairs, but didn't care.

I felt myself fall off the couch and onto the floor. My face pressed against the cool wood, but I did not black out. I could not escape into unconsciousness. I was a vampire.

So I lay there, still, as the pain reared up like a tidal wave, and crashed over me, tearing, crushing, killing.

Weeks passed.

Time meant nothing to me, for I never slept, never hunted, never left my room. Each second was agony, always bringing up memories, her face in my mind. I was thirsty, painfully thirsty, but the other pain was so much more overwhelming that I hardly noticed.

I was hurting my family, I knew that. I heard their thoughts, Carlisle's, Esme's. They didn't come up, though, they knew I wanted to be left to my despair. That I wasn't ready yet to go out, to face the world. And probably woudl never be.

They understood, and left me alone.

Well, almost all of them.

"Edward!" The voice was imperious, haughty- Rosalie. I looked up and met her eyes, as through a haze. She was perfect, of course, beautiful, yet her blond hair was so fake, so unreal, and my mind unconsciously compared it to _her_ lustrious brunette waves- I cut the thought off as it threatened to rip me, tear me in half from my chest.

"What do you want, Rosalie?" My voice cracked, unused for who knows how long.

She looked at me sternly. "Edward, I don't really care about your love life. I don't care about Bella."

The name hit me like a punch in the gut, knocking me back.

"You know I never liked her. I don't understand what the big deal was about her. But this- this depression is hurting everyone. It's hurting Esme, you know it is. Carlisle wants to help, but he doesn't know what to do. Jasper- Jasper can't stay in the house anymore- can't you think about how brutally your emotions would affect him? And Alice hate it whenever Jazz is depressed.

"Emmett, it's bearing down on him too. He hardly ever jokes anymore. It's been forever since someone's laughed, even smiled, in this family. And it's your fault, because you're being selfish enough to brood and mope constantly.

"You need to forget about that little human, Edward. Bella-" I fought back another cringe at her name.

"Oh, it hurts you to hear me say Bella's name, doesn't it?" she sneered, realizing, and her face twisted scornfully. "Bella, Bella, Bella, Bella..."

I couldn't let that bitch say the name one more time.

"Fine!" I snarled, leaping up. "Fine! You don't want to be affected by my feelings anymore? Fine. You don't have to. I'll leave. I don't need to be part of this family anymore."

Her lips parted, surprised. "No, that's not what I meant, I don't want you to-"

"I don't care what the _hell_ you want me to do, Rosalie! You want me to go back and turn her into a vampire?" The thought of her, even without saying the name, burned my lips.

"I'm tired of this shit," I continued. "You want me to kill her? Is that it? I _can't_ move on, Rosalie. I can't just forget her. I'm sorry if it's making you feel fucking _uncomfortable_. But to spare your feelings, I'll leave. Happy?"

I hadn't realized the rest of the family was at the door, but I thrust it open, slamming it against the wall. Pushing past their horrified expressions, I stormed through the hall, anger making me faster than lightning. I was outside the house and inside my new car- I didn't remember who had bought it- before I heard Alice call, "Edward!" and she was at the window.

"Edward, don't do this," she whispered.

I sighed. "Sorry, Alice, but Rose is right. I can't impose my misery on the rest of you, too. It's not right. Goodbye."

"But-"

I rolled up the window and drove off.

Now I was no longer a Cullen.

**Stephenie Meyer owns everything.**


	5. Chapter Four

Namelessly I wandered, a walking zombie, through the streets of Denali. There were people I talked to, and the name I gave them was "Anthony Masen". The name I had owned tied me to my old life, to Forks, the place that would always be my home, to her.

Their faces were blurs, unrecognizable. Once in a while a girl had those soft, warm, brown eyes that reminded me of hers, and that stood out. They tore me back to the past, and I wondered if I had gone mad.

I never hunted.

Yes, the thirst hurt, but life was such a dismal ache of existence that it seemed insignificant. Why bother to be comfortable, if I was never going to be happy anymore, and I didn't want to?

Sometimes, as the thirst burned and humans wandered the streets, letting their scent waft over where to I stood, at the corner, pressed against the building like a tramp, I wondered if it was such if I became the monster I was punishing myself for being.

But whenever I envisioned myself flying across the street, leaping at the innocent victim's chest, and leaning down to slit his throat with my sharp teeth, the imagined victim's face turned into Bella's, and she looked up at me with terror, horrified fear.

Yes, I was going mad.

Once, I passed a church, and entered. It was fairly ironic that it eased the ache a little, being in the silent, cool chapel. A sermon was being uttered, and I realized it was a wedding.

As the priest said the words, I gazed around the room. Everything was beautiful: white pillars, deep cedar pews, and gold adornments. I had forgotten about this; my family had been religious before the influenza. I remembered how being in a church had uplifted me, had made me feel romantic and full of... some sort of strong emotion. Hope? Faith?

There was nothing left of that for me. I was now a monster, the enemy of the religion.

But I could still pray, couldn't I?

I wandered over to an arrangement of votive candles, in translucent, deep red cups. Several were lit, flames flickering energetically. A lighter was available for the parish to use.

I looked at the flames, slowly melting the wax as they burned. Each one of these represented a wish, a prayer, a word of hope for a loved one. I looked at them, and almost heard the whispered blessings:

_For Emma. Please let her come home, please let her change her mind. Dear God, take care of her, even if she never sees her father again. Don't let her get hurt, or raped, let her find someone good in the company she now keeps. Amen._

_Brad, I love you, this candle is for you. What twist of fate was this, that you had to die? So sad. God, please let him be in heaven, please let me meet him when I die as well. Brad, the children are safe, I will keep them well. Amen._

_Dear Jesus, I trust my Claire is safe with you. I named her Claire afterwards, even though I never saw her. Claire, I'm so sorry, so sorry, I made a horrible mistake. I was so stupid, killing you before you were born, just so I could live a normal teenager life. I wish I could have seen you, just once. I love you. Amen._

I picked up the lighter and squeezed the button. The flame sparked for a second before I brought it down and let the fire catch onto the wick of a medium filled votive candle. Setting down the lighter, I whispered, "Bella." Strangely, it didn't hurt for me to remember her just then. God, if you can hear the prayer of a vampire, please keep her safe. Keep her safe.

The priest finished the sermon, and the bride and groom kissed fervently. I stood and watched, almost feeling like Jasper as I sensed the love and joy emanating from the couple.

As I left, I reflected... This was what I had fooled myself into thinking I could have: love, pleasure, happiness- but it was impossible. I was alone. I could never look with love upon my new wife, kiss her like the groom had just now, think triumphantly that she was mine, forever, never expect children with hope.

And this was the life Bella- I cringed away from the name- this was what I had given her by leaving. She would get older, be happy, go to college. Eventually, she would meet someone, or fall in love with someone she already knew- Tyler, or Mike.

I bit back the snarl of jealous fury as I thought of Mike holding her.

And she would have children, watch them grow up, as well, get old... the dream that was constantly in Rosalie's thoughts. I heard her, sometimes, and understood. What wouldn't I give to be human right now?

I had to make sure this would happen. She had to live long, be happy. I quiet Forks, there was nothing to hurt her once we were gone. Unless...

My thoughts flashed to James in a moment of fear. He was dead, but was there anyone else? Victoria. Victoria had been his mate. The chance was unlikely, yet possible. I had to eliminate it.

I couldn't go back to Forks. I knew if I did, my selfish desire would overpower me and I'd give up. I'd go to Phoenix, and pick up her trail there.

I had a purpose, if a meager one. A worthless one, perhaps, but it was for her- and that was all that mattered.

Victoria scent was simple enough to trace. I found her hotel room in Phoenix, then hacked the airport records to find several plane trips- leading to Southern United States, through Central America, and down into South America.

I began my hunt.

--

**Stephenie Meyer owns everything.**


	6. Chapter Five

Time passed, long, blanks of hours I couldn't remember, and agonizing seconds of pain. I was aware when I had left the United States, because the language changed. I became Antonio Montez, and I began to lose my sense of myself.

One being couldn't survive this much torture, it was impossible.

Especially when he didn't want to try.

The lifeline was always tauntingly available, the plane ticket to Washington I bought then tore into shreds countless times. Her window was fixed in my mind, forever open. I just had to go back, scale the wall, and she would wake from her sleep, startingly beautiful.

Her mouth would open in a small "O", and she would fall into my arms. Sometimes, in my daydreams, she murmured my name over and over, sometimes she wept, staining my shirt with salty tears.

A couple times she backed away from me, her face twisted in pain and anger, and screamed out, "Don't touch me! Get away from me, Edward!" I would back away, and she would smash the window closed, but I didn't care, that hallucination was as beautiful as all the others, to hear her voice, to hear her say my name.

The daydreams swam up more and more often now, when I was out searching to pick up Victoria's scent, when I was talking to an unknown someone about something I wouldn't remember afterwards, when I was crouching in my rented room, curled into a ball, sobbing tearlessly.

I also seemed less like a vampire, for I could hear in the thoughts of the minds around me that my face was no longer beautiful, or at least more of a dark beauty. That my hair was no longer lustrous, that my eyes were brooding and dark, shadowed pits instead of enchanting gold.

I appeared clumsy, clumsier than _she_ had, even. When someone's eyes, someone's smell, a song blaring out of someone's window, reminded me of her, I was no longer strong enough to keep from falling to the ground and staying down.

The small rooms I rented had grey walls, used furniture- nothing brown, that was her favorite color- always as quiet and still as a cemetary.

Still, I ran into memories of her at a daily basis. The landlady reading Wuthering Heights, as I passed by. "Claire de Lune" by Debussy sounding out of someone's car windows. When this happened, my chest threatened to rip itself open and expose my black, empty hole I had instead of the non-beating heart I had left in Forks.

All my CDs, DVDs, books slowly filled my wastebasket, as I picked them up and fruitlessly tried to distract myself.

Accompanying them were long letters in my once-perfect, now faltering handwriting I had written to _her_, apologizing, telling her where I was, what I had been doing that week if I remembered. No letters got sent.

"Bella," I wrote,

"I'm in Mexico City now, living in a room beehind a bar. I hear the raucous, loud voices, and it reminds me of that time in Port Angeles... how I hope you are safe, wherever you are.

"I hear them, and I imagine you coming into this room, scared. The faces of the men look different, not Mexican, but their expressions and thoughts are the same. I call out, warning you, telling you to go back, though no one can hear me in the other room above the drunken voices and music. Eventually you leave, as though you had heard me. Of course, no one entered the room; the door is still closed. Are you remembering me, as I remember you?

"I remember how you were such a trouble magnet- I hope you're not in danger now. I'm tracking Victoria, you'll be safe from her, I promise.

"Still, I am so anxious, and these daydreams come so often now. I fear I am going mad. If you saw me now, you wouldn't know me, for I now look like a monster on the outside as well as the inside. When you do get to heaven- I have no doubt that's where you'll go- look down on me, and know I am doing this for you.

"Loving you for all existence,

Edward."

Calls from my family in Denali came every couple months. They were worried about me- I could hear that in their voices. Rosalie, of course, berated me for being selfish. She told me how the family was dead without me, how the house rang with silence, with the memory of laughter and smiles. Tanya and their coven looked at them with pity, but not understanding. She didn't see why all this fuss was made over one insignificant human-

Once she got to Bella, I always clicked the phone closed.

Sometimes their calls awoke my simmering temper, and I screamed at them, ripping out obscenities, speaking like the people I now lived with. More times, I hardly heard what they said, preferring to sink further into the stupor that was constantly available whenever I closed my eyes and saw her face behind my lids.

The thirst, also, was getting to be a problem, but I still didn't bother to hunt. I began to see the blood swim in my mind whenever a human passed by. It was one time when I had just hung up from one of Rosalie's most aggravating tirades, and a woman on a motorcycle swerved, slipped on ice, and slammed into a tree. Blood began to gush from her forehead.

My instincts took over and a crouched, preparing to spring, my burning throat singing with joy. My muddled brain was beyond anything when I heard it.

_Her_ voice, crying out in fear and horror. "No, Edward!" she called, as if calling down from heaven, my personal gaurdian angel. "No, you don't want to do this- think of Carlisle!"

It startled me enough that I straightened out of my attacking crouch.

"You can't do that, Edward. You know how disappointed I would be." Her glorious voice sounded angry now.

I ran from the scene, ran away from the alluring blood, ran from the temptation to do what hurt her.

So my throat hurt, but my heart hurt a thousand times more.

And my misery continued.

**Stephenie Meyer owns everything.**

**To do the next chapter, I need the dialogue between Bella and Laurent in the NM scene in the meadow, as I don't have the book. If you can help out, please review, PM, or email me. Again, my email is "ginny underscore pwns at hotmail dot com". I am now number 57 on the New Moon waiting list at the library. !rolls eyes**


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